Meaning
by amberdowny
Summary: This was all leading up to that night...It started out a veritable bacchanal, but became something much more intimate and meaningful, for two of the people involved at least. CurtBrian


Disclaimer: Todd Haynes. Not me. sigh

A/N: I've seen VG once all the way through and once from where Brian first sees Curt. I've read a grand total of two VG fics, and this is the first I've written. Forgive me my mistakes.

It had been Jerry's idea, making the Brian/Curt relationship so public. He knew it'd generate media attention and thus public intrigue and thus more record sales and ticket sales and _thus_ more money for him. He probably would have told them to fake it if there weren't real feelings involved.

But there were, and that made all the difference.

The words Curt had spoken, probably assumed by many to be purely for the audiences' sakes, were true. "Excuse me fellas, while I raise my glass to the loveliest man in Europe." The next words Curt said, spoken softly so only Brian could hear, confirmed that. "The world is changed 'cause you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history."

And then that kiss…no one, not even a rockstar, could fake that look after. The shock, disappointment even, of the flashbulbs interrupting a kiss with meaning behind it. Sure, some of it was pure lust, but there was caring too. Maybe even love, but neither of them was quite ready to consider that.

And at that _concert_…oh god. The guitar licking _was_, admittedly, a set-up by Jerry, just as the fake shooting would be later. But the way it had been done--all Brian. Jerry hadn't told him to wrap his arms around Curt's hips, squeeze his arse, _or_ stick his fingers under the waistband of Curt's deliciously tight trousers. When Brian had seen Curt jumping around, lights glinting off those metallic trousers, he was seriously turned on. He desperately wished the guitar was gone and he was licking something else, something less cold but equally hard.

Curt, of course, had no objections, and as he walked forward, Brian slinking backwards under him, he wanted to dominate this exotic creature, make him beg. Then he realized, as all glam rockers did at one time or another, that having an erection while wearing tight pants was FUCKING painful. He was almost reluctant to hear Brian start singing again…but not quite. He'd never told him, but as soon as Curt heard Brian sing live, he'd become as enamored of Brian as Brian was of him. He'd also thought it was a bit unfair that Brian had seen him naked (and covered in oil and glitter, no less!) before he'd seen Brian.

This was all leading up to that night. Oh god, that night. It started out a veritable bacchanal, but became something much more intimate and meaningful, for two of the people involved at least.

No words needed to be exchanged--Curt simply disentangled himself from a few lovely women, grabbed a bottle, gave Brian a sultry look (which affected Brian in a way the women surrounding him hadn't) and disappeared into the bedroom. Brian had followed, with only the briefest glance at Mandy. No other hesitation.

In the bedroom, Curt got his wish of dominating Brian, because although Brian was far from being a virgin, the simple fact was that Curt had been with lots more men. Brian wondered whether Curt really did like girls at all, but he didn't ask then and he forgot to later, and then it was too late.

When it was over, they spooned together, Curt's black nail-polished hand splayed possessively over Brian's back, one leg draped over Brian's. They stayed that way until morning, when Brian snapped awake.

He rolled over and nudged Curt. "Wake up," he demanded. "Someone just came in."

Curt opened an eye, glanced around, then nestled deeper into the warm nest of pillows, blankets, and Brian. "Well, no one's here now," he muttered. "Go back to sleep."

"Someone saw us," Brian persisted.

Curt groaned and opened his eyes again. "So? We weren't subtle last night, you've said on _television_ you like boys _and_ girls, and Jerry's gotten the whole world believing we've been fucking already." He paused, then went on, "'Sides, there's no one in the house that'd care anyhow."

"I suppose," Brian sighed. "Curt…let's go somewhere. On holiday."

Curt looked at Brian in surprise. "But--the tour--"

"We'll be back for the next show. Come on Curt, it'll be fun. Besides," he said, a suggestive smirk on his face, "if the world thinks we're shagging, we ought to shag more than once."

Curt returned the look and agreed.

They left hurriedly, leaving their abandoned trousers (pants, Curt would grumble) on the floor and a note from Brian on the table.


End file.
